


Routine

by LotharWinchester



Series: 100 Fanfiction Collection [18]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: M/M, Not Beta Read, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-13 18:34:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29283069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LotharWinchester/pseuds/LotharWinchester
Summary: “How does your OC plan on finishing out Summer? Did they have any favorite summer memories?”Prompt from: falloutocprompt blog on tumblr
Series: 100 Fanfiction Collection [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2150304





	Routine

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own fallout, Bethesda does.
> 
> This can be a stand alone or an addition to my fanfic ‘ road to forgiveness’
> 
> So it’s been a while and I’d like to thank everyone who has stuck by me as I slowly add onto this. With coronavirus happening, it has been hard to find time to write and work. 
> 
> I also want to make it known I was disgusted by things happening in the fallout fandom. Particularly fallout 4. There have been several groups that have risen and fallen that make it their sole job to ruin the lives of fanfic writers. It was sickening and it made writing for the fandom disheartening

Milo swatched a match against the bottom of his boot. It was a habit he’d picked up in the service that drove his partner crazy. No matter how many Zippo lighters they’d bought for him, he’d always manage to lose them. 

The black boots had also kept him through cold winters and hot summers 200 years ago. He’d even had them on in the vault. But one thing he’d done to mark the end of the summer was mend and clean his wardrobe. Including his boots. 

So, in the late afternoon of another god awfully hot day in the Wasteland, Milo found himself slowly rummaging through his pack. He grunted in approval when his large hand grasped the can of wax buried in the bottom. 

  
  


Sweat beads dribbled down the expanse of his scarred back and Milo grumbled under his breath as he held the cigarette away from his mouth. 

Amelia cried softly in the distance. It was his regular signal that it was getting close to dinner time. He could hear Arthur gently coaxing the baby out of her crib and into his arms. 

The image of her in Shaun’s crib flashed in his mind and he continued to wax his boot to try to get his mind off it. Once he killed himself into the familiarity of the motion, he finished in time to mend another shirt before the gas lamps of Sanctuary switched on. 

Milo exhaled and dropped the forgotten cigarette onto the ground. It had only been a few days since the baby had arrived and he could feel the change in his demeanor. It hurt too much to look at her. How Arthur looked at her. 

Milo bit his lip until it started to bleed. He needed a drink.


End file.
